Happy Days
A thing ye never see nor find;
is whit we ca'd a sucker, mind?
Wee bit o' leather, string attached,
the fun it gi'ed wis never matched.
Yet wetted it an' stamped it doon
on sivers, grat'ns, square an' roon'.
Then pu'd until it lifted up
the iron wecht (complete with muck).
At times the polis made us run,
but, efter a', 'twis hermless fun.
An' no' tae be compared at a'
wi' ringin' bells or chalking wa'.
The sucker that I had wis rare;
I took a pride in it, whit's mair!
An' widna swap for lesser tripe
like bools or peeries, knife or kite.
Noo, maybe shops juist dinna sell
the things as boys we liked sae well.
When sauntrin' doon some streets I went,
an' saw some kids on play sae bent.
Grand toys a plenty could be seen,
bit ne'er a sucker crossed my e'en!
